


Everglow

by Starillusion



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Demisexuality, Dragon Age Spoilers, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), M/M, Mages (Dragon Age), Nightmares, Templar Inquisitor, Templars (Dragon Age), Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starillusion/pseuds/Starillusion
Summary: Julian Silverlin was trained as an Imperial Templar in a land where Templar's had no power. Moving to Kirkwall and joining their Templar Order was just another extreme on the opposite end. At least he reunited with his old childhood friend, Cullen Rutherford. Follow Julian through a Dragon Age AU retelling of events from Dragon Age II, onward into Inquisition through the eyes of a reluctant Templar/mage sympathizer. His world gets turned even more upside down when he falls out of the Fade and is called the Herald of Andraste. Can his life get any stranger? Apparently yes, as a mage from his past comes to Haven with a warning of oncoming forces.





	1. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be attempting to update as often as possible, but I am a single dad with a job outside of kids as well. This is my first real attempt with a fanfiction, so please give all constructive criticisms that you like. Just make sure they're constructive please. I've been writing for nearly ten years, but never written something like this. If you like it, please let me know.

“Go around the side so we can cut her off!” Branson yelled, his sword glinting in the light from the moon. He looked angry, but we were all angry. It wasn’t often that we templars were called upon by a magister to go chasing off after a mage that had reportedly been summoning demons. It was my first time on such a hunt. I had been with the Imperial Templar Order for three years, officially anyway. I had been in training since I was fourteen. 

I gave a nod of my head to Branson, following orders as I ran around the alley opposite of Branson and the others. As luck would have it, we all emerged at just the right time, cutting the mage off before she could flee. Branson’s smirk was the first thing I noticed, it looked wrong, off, something too sinister for someone that had no real power to speak of. The mage’s pleas brought my attention back to her. She was frail, so thin that she looked as if a strong wind could blow her over. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears brimming in the corners. Her hands were up in the air in surrender. “Please, please. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Those words echoed in my mind as I woke with a startled breath from another nightmare. Sweat dripped from my body as I sat up, clutching my head, trying to clear the remaining cobwebs from the nightmare. It plagued me at least twice a week despite it having happened a year prior. The events of that night had shaken me to my core, and I was still unable to look at Branson without fury rising in my chest. Worse still, was that the Black Divine hadn’t listened to my tale of how the night had gone, and tossed my concerns and aggressions aside. Branson was untouchable and I was just some vagrant Fereldan that they had taken pity on. Nothing I said mattered.

I left the confines of my bed to splash water on my face. In the dirt and grime covered mirror I could just make out my reflection, haunted by my own life’s story. It was time for a change. A change that would take me from Tevinter. 

Tevinter was… different. I was indeed from Fereldan, born to an apostate and a farmer. We lived a rather slow and languid life for the first nine years after my birth, in a small nondescript village called Honnleath. Some days I missed the slowness, the quiet, it was definitely better than what Tevinter held within its walls. The decision to move to Tevinter had come from my mother after my father had died from a sudden illness when I was nine. Being that young, I argued with her, disagreed with her reasoning and even tried to run away to live with my friend Cullen and his family. Clearly I didn’t get my way, and after nearly a eight months of travel, we arrived in Tevinter. 

I had joined the Imperial Templar Order when I was fourteen. It was more out of a promise than anything else. Cullen and I had both idolized the templar order when we were younger, and we both shared our interest from a young age. He had said he was going to join, and while I didn’t particularly care to join, I went along with it to make my friend happy. When he learned that I was moving away, to places unknown, he made me promise that I would follow my dream of becoming a templar just like him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t want that for my life. Five years later and that promise wasn’t forgotten, so I joined. It wasn’t the templar order in which he would have wanted me to join, I’m sure of that, but it was all I had available to me. 

Besides, my mother’s thoughts that Tevinter would be so much better, were wrong. She assumed that going to Tevinter would be safer than staying in Fereldan where she was labeled an apostate. She assumed that the mages in Tevinter would greet her with open arms, would raise her up to magister status within months, maybe a year, and we would have a wonderful life. She was wrong. Instead we barely scraped by. The only thing that made her stand out from the crowd of Soporati was that she was a mage. Since she was not Tevinter born, she was barely able to get a foot into the Laetans. So I had to do something to keep us going, to keep her stronger, so I joined the Imperial Templar Order. It was rough, but nothing like what the Chantry in the rest of Thedas was like, I was certain of that. I was done with my training in just four years and sent to be a good little templar. 

Training hadn’t prepared me for that horror I faced with Branson. It hadn’t prepared me for Tevinter and the way in which the mages held themselves. I saw a lot of things that made my stomach turn, but was powerless to fight back, powerless to make any changes. I was stationed all over the place, from the circle to regular guarding duties around Minrathous. The circle was probably the worst of it, the amount of things I saw, the way the mages acted. I had never been a big believer in the circles back home, but Tevinter was the exact opposite of the oppression mages faced elsewhere in Thedas. It was like two extremes with no middle ground.

That one single night with Branson and the nightmares that followed, had me leaving Tevinter after five years as an official templar. My mother had moved up the ranks and was in an apprenticeship with a magister, so I knew she would be fine. I didn’t tell her I was leaving, didn’t tell her where I was going. I told no one, just slipped out in the night and disappeared. I traveled for months before I finally made it to Kirkwall, where I decided to stop running and just be alone. I needed time to figure out what I was doing, where I was going. 

It was getting late, the sun starting to set when I found a familiar face. At this point I had been in Kirkwall for three days, sleeping in some dingy bar in Lowtown, making the rounds up to Hightown to sell various goods I had brought with me. It was rough, but I was used to living rough after the years as a child, not to mention that being a templar in Tevinter didn’t exactly bring me riches. As I stood at one of the merchant tables, trying to get him to see the value in the necklace I was presenting him with, I looked up in annoyance, sighing. It was then that I saw a face that, while grown up, was familiar. 

A templar group was nearby, just three of them. One of them though, I could’ve sworn I knew him. The blonde hair and light brown eyes brought back memories of my childhood friend Cullen. The more I stared at the man, the more I thought about Cullen, and the more the faces lined up. My old childhood friend would be about the age of the man I was staring at. It was when the man smiled that I realized it had to be Cullen.

“I’m not going to buy that necklace for three sovereigns. You should take your business elsewhere messer. Stop blocking me from potential customers. Are you even listening to me?” The merchant prattled on, but I was basically ignoring him at this point. 

“Mhm, yeah.” I mumbled as I moved over towards the group of templars. I could see one of them had noticed me, her muscles tensing as I moved closer. Before she could speak though, my own voice broke the tension.

“Cullen?” I knew I was going to feel so stupid if I was wrong, but I was really feeling like I wasn’t.

The blonde man turned around as I spoke, a quizzical look on his face. That expression told me exactly what I needed to know.

“Maker, it is you!” Up close I could see it, see that smiling eight year old that would train with me in swordplay. 

Cullen’s brows furrowed together as he looked at me the recognition not quite reaching him. I had changed a lot since I was a child. To go from some lanky kid with dark black hair that fell into my face, obscuring my bright blue eyes nine times out of ten, into what I had become, well… I wasn’t that lanky kid anymore. I was 6’4, had put on a decent amount of weight and musculature, honed my body really. My hair had gotten darker, nearly black in color, and was now cut shorter, curled and standing on end at the top of my head with no need for me to do anything to it in order for it to be styled this way. My bright blue eyes were still just as bright as my hair was dark, but they no longer held the innocence of boyish charm. Now they were haunted and alone. My once sunken in rosy cheeks had filled out, my non existent jaw had turned into one that could probably cut someone if I tried. My skin had tanned fairly well in the warm and sunny weather of Tevinter, changing my old ghost white hue. 

“Can I help you?” Cullen questioned my motives, the confusion still on his face. I could tell that he was trying to piece it together, he could tell I was a familiar face, but only just barely. 

“It’s me, Julian! Julian Silverlin, from Honnleath.” 

There it was, the recognition I needed, the familiarity I craved. Cullen’s face broke into a giant smile and the two of us embraced one another like brothers. Which wasn’t much of stretch. We had been as close as blood brothers when we were growing up. It was crazy to see him in Kirkwall of all places. I hadn’t thought I was ever see him again, and certainly not so far northeast of Honnleath. 

I was introduced to his fellow templars and then the two of us spent the night catching up in a bar in Hightown. Cullen I noticed, didn’t drink anything and kept his eyes off of the various women in the establishment. He told me of his joining the Order, and his station at the circle tower in Fereldan, what had happened there with the mages, and then his time spent elsewhere before he arrived in Kirkwall just a few months before I had gotten there. When it was my turn to tell him of my own life story, I wasn’t sure where to begin. I no longer had to safeguard my mother, but there was some shame in me, for admitting that I had been living in Tevinter, that I was a templar… just not a templar like Cullen wanted me to be. 

“Well, you remember how we moved after my dad died.” I stated this without question. “My mother, well, she was a mage.” I noticed the tension in Cullen’s body, the very word making him as tightly wound as a spring. I could also see the surprise in his eyes, could just almost hear him asking me “what” questions, so I continued on before he got himself into a tissy. “She had the brilliant plan for us to move to Tevinter after dad died. She felt it would be the safest place for us, where she wouldn’t be an apostate anymore. She was right of course, we made it there, she wasn’t an apostate anymore, but Tevinter is… well, it’s Tevinter. It is the strangest place in all of Thedas, but I didn’t have any say on where we lived.”

Cullen blinked several times, but finally his voice came out. “You moved to Tevinter. Tevinter, Tevinter.” The blonde nodded his head several times, letting the information sink in. “And I thought the strangest part of my life would have been meeting you again, but no, this tops that.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I have more things to top that with.” And off I went, explaining how I had kept my promise, just in a bit of a twisted way. That led Cullen and I to talking about the differences between the Imperial Templar Order and the regular Order. This spawned hours of conversation about Tevinter, Fereldan, the Chantry, the Divine and Black Divine, mage rights, templars in general, everything. Cullen and I had similar, but also vastly different, opinions on some subjects. I believed in the Chant of Light. I believed in the Maker and Andraste. I believed in the Orlesian bred and born Chantry, not the Imperial Chantry. That was something we were all able to agree on.

However, I held a different view on mages than my friend did. After his story of Kinloch Hold, I could understand why he felt the way he did. He had been scarred by those events. He couldn’t see past the horrors that had been inflicted upon him. I felt for Cullen. I really did. I hoped that time would heal his wounds, because mages were not the bad people he was trying to make them out to be. They were humans and elves just like so many other “normal” humans and elves. Did they require regulations and rules? Yes. Did they deserve imprisonment? No. The circles needed to be a bit more lax, but not so lax that it became Tevinter. 

I kept most of these thoughts to myself, not wanting to debate with my old friend. Eventually, when Cullen realized I had nowhere to really go, no job to speak of, he told me he would speak with Knight Commander Meredith about me joining the templar ranks.

“You already have some of the training, so we would be remiss to just toss you aside. There would be more training, because it sounds like Tevinter does things differently, but it wouldn’t last forever. We’d be able to teach you how to suppress mages magic, to use lyrium to your advantage, to be a force to be reckoned with. And along the way, we would be bringing you back into the official chantry.” Cullen seemed pretty happy with all of this. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I had no job prospects. I couldn’t continue living on the streets. I needed to make a path forward, and the offer from Cullen was my best bet. 

“I would be honored for you to speak with her, Cullen.” And I was too. It was a chance at making a better life for myself. Tevinter mages weren’t in Kirkwall. Branson wasn’t in Kirkwall. Demon summonings, blood magic, magisters, all of that was behind me. I knew that not all mage circles in Thedas were super restrictive too, and hoped that Kirkwall’s wouldn’t be too harsh on its mages. I left Cullen that night, looking forward to my future. I had no idea what the future had in store for me.


	2. An Elf Named Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian must attend his first Harrowing and hope for the best. In the hours leading up to the Harrowing, he is given his first station inside of the circle, where he sees just how vastly different things are in Kirkwall.

Life in Kirkwall was very different from both Honnleath and Tevinter. I spent a year in training with the Templar Order. I’m sure that it was only Cullen’s word that got me in at all. It was clear from the way my officers spoke to me, that they didn’t care a single sovereign for me. All they saw was a Tevinter, an imposter, a troublemaker. My training possibly would have continued longer if it weren’t for me excelling in the training, including all of my knowledge on the Chant of Light. I think that probably helped. Cullen claimed that it was my previous teachings, which had given me the basics, that allowed me to pass through training so quickly. Whatever it was, I was glad when my training was done and I was initiated as an official Templar once more.

Within a week after my training ended, I was sent to the circle, to the Gallows. I had only seen the outside of the circle tower. I had been training nearby, and sleeping in the Templar quarters, but those were not inside the tower. The Gallows courtyard had bothered me the first time I had seen it. The slave statues reminded me of Tevinter a bit too much. Kirkwall was of course once part of Tevinter, but I still didn’t like it. I had left that land far behind me, and wanted to forget about it. It was hard to forget about it, even a year after I had fled like a coward.

“Things are very different here, Julian.” Knight- Captain Cullen started in. He had been promoted during my training, and I couldn’t be more proud of him. I had known he was going to go far in his life with the Order. He was my commanding officer, but we still felt like old friends, even with our time apart. “Mages do not rule here, and I think you will see that they know and understand that.” Cullen still held a strong stance against mages, but he had softened up a bit over the past year. Not as much as I would have liked him to, but it was a start. It wasn’t easy for him to forget what had been done to him.

He was leading me into the tower, going up the many stairs and into the courtyard. A few mages lingered in the courtyard there. A young elven mage sat on the bottom of nearby stairs, reading a book. A human mage was on the opposite stairs, seemingly drawing a picture. Neither of them looked up as we walked by. That wasn’t too strange for me, so I paid it no mind and continued on behind Cullen. My heavy boots clinked on the stone steps as we made our way further inside. The inside of the tower was much like a prison. History told me that slavers used to operate out of the Gallows, probably housing their slaves there in the pins that were now housing mages. “Most of the cells have been turned into living quarters for the mages.” Cullen’s voice informed me of what I was fearing.

The halls were dark and gloomy, as if sunlight just couldn’t permeate the air. It was quiet too, the only sounds being the sounds of mine and Cullen’s boots and armor as we moved, the occasional voice of Cullen as he pointed out different things to me. The quiet was not a comfort, but instead was an oppressive weight on my shoulders. It felt wrong, as if all of the happiness in the world had been yanked out of the tower and thrown somewhere else. If I had to guess where, that happiness had been sent to Tevinter. The Magisters just twisted it into something grotesque and rancid. I didn’t like either towers so far, but was trying to give the Gallows the benefit of the doubt. Surely there were happy people there somewhere. Where there was life, there had to be happiness, even in small doses. 

We entered a large room, still dark, but a bit brighter. Inside were many many mages, some looking over books, others practicing small efficient spells, a few stood in a corner together, having some conversation or another. When Cullen and I entered the room, the looks that the mages gave us were so foreign to me. I was used to the cocky and confident attitudes of Tevinter mages, not the fear and contempt I saw in these mages. Those practicing their magic, stopped, those in the corner talking to one another, jumped apart. They all cast their looks to us, but just as quickly looked away, unable to make eye contact. “Your duties within the tower are going to be hard, Julian. Mages must be watched at all times. Any sign of corruption must be dealt with swiftly. We will not have another incident like we did in Fereldan.” 

I turned to Cullen, finally looking away from the mages. A frown had appeared on my face when I had seen their own, but I had to push it aside to give my Captain my attention. “Yes,sir.” I answered. It felt weird still, calling him sir, but I was doing my best. 

“Tonight we have a Harrowing, I want you to attend it, the Templar to act out his duties if needed.” He nodded his head, looking stern and very unlike his old eight year old self. I didn’t know much about Harrowings, as I had never attended one in Tevinter. I couldn’t imagine that they were all that different from Tevinter’s however. Or so I hoped. I also hoped that the mage was going to pass their Harrowing. I knew what the “duties” were that Cullen spoke of. I did not want to cut down a mage that had become an abomination. It was so wrong, Harrowings. Putting them into danger like that, just to see if they wouldn’t give into temptation. Again, I kept these thoughts to myself. There was no reason for me to share them with others. Cullen had made his stance clear, and was not going to listen to my argue my points. If anything, it would just cause a divide between us. I didn’t want that. “Do you understand what your duties are tonight, Julian?” Cullen looked at me with a very serious expression.

“I do. I will not fail in my orders, Captain” I nodded my head as I spoke. I didn’t want to be apart of it, but I knew I had no real choice. Besides, there was a high chance that the Harrowing would go smoothly and nothing bad would happen. More often than not, that is exactly how they went. Yet we Templar's here in Kirkwall were meant to treat mages as if they were a danger to everyone and themselves. I could feel the unease growing in my stomach, but there was nothing I could do about it. It would be with me throughout the rest of the day. 

“These are your charges now, Julian. See to it that you do not fail them, fail me, fail the Order, or fail the Maker.” Cullen put a hand to his chest and bowed his head. He spoke in a very commanding voice, making it sound like an order. I had no doubt that it was an order, just not an official one. 

I put a hand to my own chest and bowed my head in turn, watching as Cullen walked away, leaving me alone in the room. I glanced around, noticing some of the mages looking my way, no doubt curious as to who I was. Or so I assumed. I was a new Templar after all, one that they didn’t know. I stared back at them, trying to cover the haunted look on my face. They turned away quickly enough and I took up my position against the wall. It wasn’t long before a few other Templar's made their rounds into the large room. None of them spoke to the mages, and neither did I, mostly out of fear of breaking protocols. 

My day was spent on guard duty, and was rather dull. I spoke with a few of my fellow Templar's, mostly about the weather. No, I’m not kidding. They would introduce themselves and I would do so as well. Then a palpable silence would fall over us, at which point one of them would ask if I knew there was rain coming or not. Said that it was on the horizon, a small storm from the looks of things. Not very interesting stuff all things considered. I would have preferred to have learned more about the circle, about my charges, but they all acted like that was of little importance. 

Eventually my guard duty was halted so that I could go to dinner. There was a grand dining hall, but it really wasn’t so grand. It could have been, but the feeling of oppressiveness, the dark gloomy nature, and the skittish mages certainly didn’t make it look very welcoming or grand. The mages spoke in quiet whispers to one another as they sat around their tables. Some of my brothers and sisters were on duty in the dining hall, stationed around the room at regular intervals. In fact there were more Templar's on duty in the hall, than anywhere else I seen. Were they expecting the mages to summon demons for dinner? Perhaps they were afraid that they weren’t going to need magic, and would instead fight with their steak knives. Part of me understood their concerns, as I had been in Tevinter for so long, but I knew that Kirkwall was different. That alone made me less suspicious. 

The mages in Kirkwall were not the mages of Tevinter. They were afraid, they were oppressed, skittish, quiet, shy. Nothing like those back in Tevinter who flaunted their magic in Templar's faces, boasted of their blood magic rituals, even did some in front of a Templar. It was allowed, as long as that blood was their own or one of their slaves. It only became a problem if they tried to use the blood of another. That was when I was supposed to step in. Disgusting stuff. The mages in Kirkwall looked as if they would faint at the sight of blood, so I could not see them doing any such rituals, let alone summoning demons. 

The Templar's stationed around the room were not the only ones in attendance, there were a few seated at a table away from the mages, enjoying their dinner. It was the Templar's that I joined. Food was already placed out on the table, nothing too glamorous, but I could tell it was better than what the mages had been given. Roasted duck, seared fish, greens, bread, apples and goblets of wine. I grabbed some of each, as I was starving, and then took a seat. The eyes of my brothers and sisters turned to me. “Ah it’s the Tevinter.” One of the drew my attention to them, a man with ruddy red cheeks, dark brown hair and green eyes that held a great deal of mischief in them. His nose crinkled as he spoke to me, goblet of wine in his hand. 

“Well, Fereldan born, so I’m more of a Feraldan than a Tevinter.” I answered, taking a bite of my bread. 

One of the Templar's chuckled at my words, the others didn’t seem fazed by it. The one that spoke to me held a smirk on his lips. “You came ‘ere from Tevinter, you were trained in that Maker forsaken place, so to me, you’re a’Vint.” He shrugged his shoulders and took a large gulp from his goblet. I chose to ignore his words and continue eating. He decided that he wasn’t done. A dirty and fat finger was pointed in my direction. The man was sitting three spots down from me on the opposite side of the table, to the left of me, where other Templar's sat next to him on all sides. On my own side were about four to my left. “We do things differently ‘ere. You’re not gonna see no mages running the circle. You’re not gonna see us Templar's being mages bitches on a leash. Isn’t that what you were? A bitch to some mage?” A few more chuckles from the others.

I sighed, annoyed already. I just wanted to eat, but clearly this man had other plans. “Sure, if that’s what you want to think and call me, you go right on ahead. I’ve no time for it and my past is my past and holds no bearing here.” 

The man guffawed, causing several mages to turn their heads and look our way. “You gonna need to grow a bigger back bone or the mages will run all over you ‘ere. Bet they don’t know they’ve got a’Vint in ‘ere. If they did, they’d probably reckon they could talk their way outta ‘ere. Just tell you to let em go and you’d do it too, because you’re a mages bitch.”

“That’s enough Rufus.” The Templar I was sitting next to spoke up, giving me reason to look his way. He had medium length hair, red in color, and bright blue eyes. I didn’t even see his mouth move as he spoke, covered underneath a bushy beard and mustache. 

Rufus looked at the man too, opened his mouth, and then quieted it. He looked down at his food and continued eating, not saying another word. Meanwhile I glanced once more at the man next to me. I didn’t need someone standing up for me, and wondered why this Templar had done so. If he had a reason, he kept it to himself, and did not engage me in conversation. I slowly let it all drift away and enjoyed the rest of my dinner in peace. A few of the others at my table started talking to each other in low whispers minutes after the debacle, but no one said anything to me again. I refused to let it bother me, as one Templar's thoughts of me and my own, was not something to worry about. I knew, when I joined the Order, that there would be those that saw me as their enemy. It would be my actions, not my voice, that changed their minds. Unless the actions they were expecting, were to be unnecessarily violent. 

After dinner I retired to my quarters and took a short nap. I knew I was going to be needed for the Harrowing, and thus only slept for about an hour before I was up again. It was Knight - Captain Cullen that came to my quarters, which were shared with two other Templar's I had yet to meet, and escorted me to the Harrowing chamber. As I didn’t know my way around the tower just yet, he was my guide. Before he departed, he reminded me of my duties, telling me not to waiver, that all of Thedas would be at stake if I did. 

I had never seen an abomination before, which to some might be shocking considering Tevinter and all of that. I had seen my fair share of blood magic, had even seen one mage summon a demon, but that summoning wasn’t one that turned him into an abomination. I had heard about them, a little bit, in Tevinter. I heard about them more once I joined the Templar Order in Kirkwall, during my training. Even got a visual from a drawing in one of the many tomes I had to read and memorize. They were very… ugly. Some would say terrifying, but I wasn’t afraid of a drawing. I tried to picture one in real life, to see if it would open up the fear that others said they had when they faced one, but I was unable to imagine it properly. I hoped that I wouldn’t be meeting one during the Harrowing. I hoped that the mage would be strong, not give into the temptation in which we were putting them into. It couldn’t be that hard right? I hoped not.

The mage was a young elven man. I wasn’t giving much information on him, which was probably a good thing. The only thing I knew was his name, which was Thomas. He appeared quite shaken as he entered the room. He listened to the instructions that Knight Commander Meredith and Enchanter Orsino gave him, telling him what he was going to go through. The elf’s attention loomed over to me, a nameless Templar standing by. There were a few others in the room, but they were further back, standing in to replace me if I failed. The fear in the man’s eyes was hard to see, but I remained as removed from the situation as I could. Giving him my best stern expression, as if I thought that might scare him into not committing such an atrocity. Surely the angry stare from a Templar would work for that right? I had a brief image of the elf in the Fade, talking to some demon, but then remembering my stern stare and deciding that that was scarier than the demon.

Right.

Thomas went into the Fade without issue. I stood by, watching his sleeping form. I didn’t feel that anything bad was going to happen. In fact, I was rather bored. A Harrowing could take awhile, and I was tired. I had been up since early that morning, and had been on guard duty most of the day. My mind drifted back to Tevinter. Memories fresh in my mind. Things were just so different there. Time seemed to move at a different speed, the whole feel to Tevinter was different and not anything like the feeling in Kirkwall. I remembered some of the mages I had actually been on good terms with during my time there. It wasn’t many, as a lot of the mages didn’t deign to speak to me. The few that had, had shown me that not all mages were stuck up power hungry fools. One in particular had caught my fancy.

He had only been in the circle for a short time. From all of the reports I had heard, he never lasted in one for long, as injury to his fellow mages seemed to follow him around like a lost dog. He was in the circle I was stationed in, for just five months before another disaster had him transfer to another. Three of those months saw myself and Dorian (as that was his name)... fraternizing. A bit beyond just fraternizing. I never knew what the “disaster” was that took him from the circle, as I never heard of another mage being injured. Instead, I feared that it was me that took him away. My commanding officers never said anything to me, as far as I was aware, they never knew about myself and Dorian. It was strange though, as many things in my life were. One day he was just gone, and I was left with whispered rumors and told he had been transferred to another circle. It was against my duties, and probably against his. I think the thrill of doing something we weren’t supposed to do, was part of the fun. 

Dorian had left an impression on me. He was different than his fellows. He held different opinions and ideas on how Tevinter should be, and I agreed with him. He was like a refreshing taste of cold water in the summer heat. We were never more than friends, though there was a lot of flirtatious banter between us. Just a week before he left, things got a bit… heated between us, but it wasn’t as if we had a lot of privacy, so nothing came of it. Then he was gone. He was a friend, someone that I believed in, someone that helped me see things just a bit clearer. I hated it when he was gone, but had no choice but to accept it and continue on with my life. Continue on down the path to the night with Branson and the mage, the night that changed my life.

“Hand on your sword, Julian.” Meredith's shrill voice brought me out of my reprieve. She was giving me the same stern look I had given the mage apprentice. Though hers was probably scarier. I did as she told, my arm crossing my body to grab the hilt of my sword. I didn’t know why she wanted my hand there, nothing was happening with Thomas. Perhaps she simply wanted me prepared, just in case. I stood that way for a good long while. It felt like eternity. Thomas' Harrowing was taking too long. From the looks on the others faces, they were agreeing. If a mage was in the Fade for too long, then we would have to kill them. I feared that that was what my duty would be, but tried hard to think on the light side of things.

Minutes ticked by and the elven man’s body twitched. I thought perhaps he was coming out of it, and my hand relaxed on the hilt of my blade. Meredith's however, strengthened. In the silence of the room, I could hear the leather inside of her gloves crinkling. I looked to her, but she was staring intently down at the sleeping man. My eyes bounced back to him, another stirring and then it happened. 

He didn’t wake, not really. It wasn’t Thomas that woke I should say. Instead, the man’s body convulsed and a horrible scream ripped through the chamber, coming from the elf’s mouth. I stared in wide eyed and horrible shock, glued to the spot as his flesh ripped and grew, lesions appearing across his skin. His robes tearing apart as rotted skin broke out across him, appearing to burn away and melt the skin that was his own. The thing rose from the ground, clawed hands, bulbous growths, rancid stink in the air. It growled out in some horrible sound that I can’t even describe. It was not of this world. It was dark, sinister and sent chills down my spine. When the creature rose to its full height, it was taller than I was, possibly as tall as a Qunari. That alone was freaky enough considering the elf had been on the shorter side, even shorter than a typical elf.

I only had seconds to fully grasp what I was seeing, and I was terrified. It was nothing like the drawing. It was nothing like what I had tried to imagine. It was horrible, it smelled of death and decay and fire. The look in its eyes was something I had never seen before, and I knew that I had to kill it. For this was not a mage anymore. This was not a human or an elf. This was a demon. A demon bent on destroying our world, destroying the lives of everyone in the circle, and it was my job to not let that happen. My sword was removed from its scabbard with fast precision. I didn’t even think of my shield, just grabbed my instrument of destruction and struck the demon with it, burying my sword deep into its stomach. The demon let out a loud shrill of pain just before its head was cut off by Meredith. 

I breathed heavily, staring at the destruction, the gore, hardly able to believe my eyes. That had been someone. An elf that had dreams and desires, a family somewhere in Kirkwall or another area of Thedas. An elf with aspirations, an elf that had been so afraid just moments before, afraid of what was to come. An elf that had been sent into the Fade and pushed right into temptation. An elf named Thomas. It was wrong, so very wrong. I felt as if I had committed a crime, but Meredith saw it differently. 

“Good work, Templar.” She sheathed her own bloody sword, looking me over. “You acted quickly and without remorse or question. We need more Templar's like you in our ranks.” I nodded my head in thanks, but didn’t know what to say. I had acted, and I knew I had to do what I did. There is no coming back once a mage becomes an abomination. I had to tell myself that it was a mercy killing, and a killing to protect others. Still, it never would have happened if we weren’t the people pushing the mage right into the path of total destruction. I felt sick to my stomach and had to look away from the decapitated body on the floor. It had once been a person. It had once been an elf named Thomas. “Yes, Knight Commander.” I finally found my voice. 

Meredith ordered someone to clean up the body and dismissed me, after once again confirming that I had done the right thing, basically singing my praises, but in a stern voice like she always had. I left the Harrowing chamber, going through the darkened halls with the same haunted expression I wore after Branson’s incident with the mage in Tevinter. I knew I had to get it out of my head, I just didn’t know how. I was never good with working through emotions. I would rather bottle them up and ignore them than face them head on. I was tired, despite everything that had transpired. So I returned to my quarters, stripped out of my heavy armor, and crawled into my bunk. I just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to forget about everything that had happened. I knew that wasn’t going to be easy, as I still couldn’t forget the night with Branson.

That night I slept with nightmares plaguing me, tossing and turning. I didn’t wake, trapped in my nightmare.


	3. Garrett Mother Fucking Hawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is going on with Templar recruits and Cullen. Julian doesn't like being left out of the know. His investigation leads him right into some familiar faces and scary realities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Real life took a bad turn right after the start of the year. Thankfully things have calmed down just enough for me to get this chapter out! Hope you all enjoy it!

In the months following my first Harrowing, I had received quite a reputation among my fellow Templar’s. Several reputations. Some believed that what I had done was quite brave, and applauded my nerve and quick thinking. Others saw me as a threat to their own success, which was very stupid. A few among my brethren, saw me as a monster. When I say a few, I definitely mean a few. They spoke in hushed whispers, but loudly enough that I was able to overhear them. They all said the same story, that I should have found another way of dealing with the abomination. While I agreed with the sentiment, after all, an elf named Thomas had been slain, the Order told us how to deal with abominations, and how to deal with Harrowings. I was just following what we stood for, no matter how sick it made my stomach. 

That was something none of my fellows saw. None of them were aware of how many times I woke in the night, plagued by the same nightmare. None of them saw how tired my eyes looked after the first week with only two hours of sleep to get me through each day. None of them were privy to the disgust I felt in my gut. I was a Templar though, and a Templar in Kirkwall was different from a Templar in Tevinter. I had a duty to the people of Thedas, latter company excused. I couldn’t just let an abomination run rampant through the streets. I had had to think on my feet, I had to react, and so I did. No matter how uneasy it left me, I knew that I had done the right thing. That was only way I managed any sleep. I was used to nightmares after the night with Branson, and knew that eventually they would get further apart, and they had. It just took a bit.

Things had been rather tense in the Order since not long after that night. I couldn’t say why, not for the longest. I only saw the hard stares from the recruits, the whispers they shared among one another, much like the whispers of the few mage sympathizers that the Order housed. I saw Cullen working himself into worry, worry that even I couldn’t seem to help with. Most days that I attempted to get him to talk, he instead took to his commanding voice and made it clear he didn’t wish to speak. I knew that something was up, but no one wanted to talk about it. 

I never was one to sit on my hands and wait for others to tell me anything however. After too long of all the mystery, I went hunting. Now I wasn’t an idiot and knew that I wasn’t going to get any information if I was dressed in my armor, and thus waited until night and dressed in a regular citizens finery. Then I hit the streets. It wasn’t late enough that shops had closed, but it was late enough that most would be customers had turned in for the night. Earlier in the day I had seen a ragtag group of people come into the Gallows and speak with some of the Orders recruits before they had made haste out of the Gallows. I knew it had to do with Wilmod. 

Wilmod was a recruit that had gone missing, as had several others. Unlike the others though, Wilmod had returned earlier in the day. No sooner had he left the Gallows, had Cullen taken chase. I had no idea where the ragtag group could fit into the whole puzzle, but felt that they could be a lead. The problem would be finding them, but it was my hope that it wouldn’t be too difficult. After all, how many white haired Elven men were there in Kirkwall? Not to mention the strange marks he had had on his body. The other three had been more watered down, harder to find in a crowd, but I had a good eye for faces. 

Once I made it into Hightown, it was almost as if Andraste herself had blessed me. For there stood the strange group, standing outside of one of the wealthier homes in the area, talking to one another. I took a moment to pick up discerning features about the other three men, just in case they all went separate ways. 

One of them appeared to be rather poor, with ratty clothing that smelled of Darktown. His hair was pulled into a ponytail that really needed to have a brush put through it. I could almost believe he was a mage, just from the scent of lyrium infused within him, but I wasn’t one of those Templars. I didn’t go around trying to find apostates unless I was ordered too. If the man wanted to be free, then who was I to stop him? The second man was a Dwarf. He had no beard, which was strange. All of the hair that should have been on his face, was on his exposed chest. I knew his name. Varric Tethras. Yes, that had to be him. Only so many beardless, hairy chested Dwarves in Kirkwall. I had never dealt with the man myself, but his name had come up in various conversations. As did the other man’s, whom I only knew to be Garrett Hawke due to association with Varric.

Hawke was a name that had been uttered on many lips over the past several months. A man that had come from Fereldan during the Blight, and made a name for himself. Bought out the old Amell estate and returned it to its glory. Not that I knew anything about the Amell’s mind you. I was just going off of what everyone else had told me. Garrett had dark hair, nearly black, spiky. His eyes were a vibrant blue, and he even had a great beard, nicely trimmed. Yes, yes, we had some similarities. They didn’t go unnoticed. The man was shorter however, thinner, and laughed a lot. His smile appeared to be glued to his face. Whatever the broody elf was saying, greatly amused Hawke. The same slight scent of lyrium was on Garrett too, something I ignored.

I remained not too far away, waiting for them to do something. I didn’t hear much of their conversation, just bits and pieces. It was mostly nonsensical. Eventually, after what felt like forever, they moved. I followed. The following was short, as they went into the Blooming Rose. I stopped outside of the door, frowning. I did not wish to be seen in there. Nothing against those that plied their trade, but I was a Templar, I had an image to uphold. An image that I would not tarnish with a reputation that I visited the men and women of the Blooming Rose. Surely whatever the group was doing inside, was not something I cared to learn about anyway. No doubt it was some weird sexual deviancy. No, I am not a prude, but one partner is enough. Four different men, plus however many people they hired for the night? No, that was grotesque. 

I gave up on my search after that image burned itself into my brain. I needed a drink. So I disappeared, off into Lowtown, back to the Hanged Man. I hadn’t been there since the night I had run into Cullen. I had only gone once, and had agreed to never go again because it was just a bad idea. The drinks were horrible, the place was filthy, and the patrons were strange, loud, and smelly. Which was really the perfect place to gather any rumors that I could. I knew that Cullen wouldn’t approve of what I was doing, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

The Hanged Man was just as disgusting as I had remembered it. I was hit by the smell when I entered the building, crinkling my nose. I ordered the best drink I could get before I moved over to a little seat in the corner. The perfect place to get a view of the patrons, to decide if there was anything good to overhear. I sat with my back to a high wall, not too far away from the stairs that led up to the rooms. Why anyone would want to sleep in such a horrible place, was truly beyond me. While I sat there, I tried to drink the swill I had ordered. It tasted so badly that I couldn’t stomach it. It instead remained on the small table in front of me, collecting dust that floated through the air freely. Dust and dirt. 

I tried to look inconspicuous, tried to look as if I were minding my own business. I kept my head down, but my eyes looked over the various faces in the room. While I searched, I overheard a conversation that wasn’t too far away. Between myself and the bar sat two women.

“Oh don’t be silly Kitten, they will be fine. Hawke knows what he’s doing.” The dark skinned woman’s caught my attention, drawing my eyes over to her. How many Hawke’s could there be in Kirkwall? According to my research, which I hadn’t actually done, I assumed one, maybe two. After all, it was the Amell family home that had been brought up, so that meant that Hawke was a family name from Garrett’s father. I knew that Leanda was the woman living in the Amell house now, and only knew that because was a noble and we had to know of the nobles in Kirkwall. If she had more children than Garrett, I was unaware of them. 

“I hope you’re right, Isabela. They should have taken me with them. I think that Garrett is trying to protect me from Fenris.” The Elven woman chuckled, her accent heavy, making me wonder where she had come from originally. Definitely not Kirkwall or the Free Marches. From the marks on her face, I could see she was a Dalish. Or was once a Dalish? I didn’t really know anything about them, just stories and rumors. I didn’t think they ventured into human cities that much, and decided to keep an ear to the ground about it all.

“That’s Hawke for you, Mr. Hero.” Isabela snorted, shaking her head as she pulled some cards out and began to deal them out between herself and Kitten. Which I doubted was the woman’s real name. 

“What do you think it all means though? Abominations in the Templar ranks? Can they do that?”

I nearly choked on my own inhale when I heard that. I began coughing so hard that both women looked my way. I had to quickly turn myself towards the wall to continue gagging on air. Abominations in the Templar Order?! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How? When? Who? I needed to get to Cullen and I needed to get to him quickly. I didn’t care if I made a scene, I quickly took off, leaving the dingy bar behind. 

Outside of the tavern, the streets were quiet, and dark. Which was not good. Idiots tried to take over the streets, or the city, or whatever else they could, at night. I had a weapon with me, but it wasn’t anything fancy. Just a small dagger in case I did run into danger. I couldn’t go around toting my sword or bow and arrows, so I had gone with something I could hide among my clothing. Being in Lowton meant I wasn’t far from the docks. They were right around the corner, I knew, but also knew that getting there could prove difficult. I didn’t tary for long though, knowing I needed to get back to Cullen, to inform him of what I had overheard.

I moved quickly through the darkened streets, not stopping for any strange noises or shadows. I made it to the docks without issues, the boat to the Gallows was within view. I took one single step towards it and was immediately set upon by brigands. Six of them, one of me. I figured I could take out three of four, but by then I would probably be injured enough that the final two to three could be quite difficult to deal with. If I had a better weapon, none of them would have been an issue. A small dagger was not my preferred weapon, and I felt vastly under powered with it. 

“Evening gentlemen, can I help you?” I spoke up, smiling, trying to talk my way out of whatever it was that they wanted.

“You can, by handing over your purse.” One of the fools stepped closer, sword at the ready, drawing it quickly and pointing it at my neck. A foolish move. He left himself completely open to attack. Maybe I was foolish for attacking when I was outnumbered and outmatched with my flimsy dagger, but I was a prideful and confident sort of person. I refused to go down without a fight. If they wanted my coin purse, they would have to take it from me. 

“Sounds like it’s not your lucky night.” I answered in one quick fashion, as I ducked under the sword pointed at my throat, grabbing my dagger as I went. With my ducking movement, I was given the perfect vantage point to slash my dagger clear across the man’s abdomen. He stumbled back in agony, holding his bleeding stomach, his sword clanking to the ground. The five others with him, immediately jumped in, ready to defend their friend. 

I barely got to do anything before a white color streaked past me, followed by a spray of blood. The sound of wood cracking over someone’s skull, and the whoosh of a crossbow bolt was all I heard. I blinked and it was all over. The five men were dead, or dying, or hurting severely, who knows? And low and behold, it was Garrett Hawke and his ragtag group that had come to my unnecessary rescue. 

“Sorry, hope you didn’t mind us stepping in. Seemed a bit out numbered there.” Garrett grinned and winked at me. 

I blinked several times at him before I was able to shake my shock off. 

“I didn’t need your assist- is that Keran?” I stopped midway through my sentence, spotting a familiar face standing behind Garrett, shirtless and barefoot. 

Garrett looked over his shoulder at Keran and then back at me. Keran looked terrified, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “What? Keran who? I don’t know any Keran’s? Are you Keran? I thought your name was Bob or Walter.” Garrett looked back and me and shrugged. 

I didn’t like him.

I moved to get closer to Keran, only to have the elf block my path. 

“I am Templar of the Order, I know my own when I see them.” I demanded, an angry air in my voice. 

Garrett didn’t seem to miss a beat. “Oh are you? Well then we should all take the boat together shouldn’t we? Sorry, official Order business, can only report to Knight Captain Cullen about Bob Walter.” He patted me on the shoulder, grabbed Keran by the wrist and walked right past me. 

I really didn’t like Garrett Hawke. 

I followed behind them, not about to be left in the dust on this. If they were going to talk to Cullen, then I was going to hear it too. I wasn’t going to be left in the dark, and was most certainly not going to be treated like riff raff from some man that had far too much ego to go around. He could probably power all of Thedas’ egos if he just deflated some of his own.

The boat ride over to the Gallows would have been silent if not for Garrett. The idiot clearly felt that I might start asking questions or making a ruckus, and thus started singing, loudly. I was quite pleased to see that the white haired elf didn’t appear too happy with Garrett’s choices either, as he sat there with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. The other two were speaking with Keran, which I didn’t like. Keran had gone missing. Like so many others. Where had they found him? At the Blooming Rose? That made no sense!

Our recruits weren’t simply going to the Rose and getting tied up for weeks on end, never to be seen again. That might be a kink of some of our recruits, sure, but not for eternity. Something wasn’t adding up, and it definitely wasn’t adding up with what I had heard at the Hanged Man. I was eager to get to Cullen. I needed answers as much as he did, and the ragtag group had put themselves right into the center of the puzzle. Which also didn’t sit right with me. Outsiders didn’t needed to be involved in Templar matters. We knew nothing of these men, or the women back at the tavern. Whoever they all were, whatever they might have done in their lives, they were not Templars, and that was what mattered. 

Off of the boat, I followed the group as they walked through the Gallows courtyard, Garrett acting as if he owned the place. So cocky. Cullen was the only one in the courtyard, everyone else having turned into the tower itself, or into their bunks. 

“Hawke, I-” he stopped upon seeing Keran, and then his eyes flickered over to me. “Julian?” I could see the confusion in his eyes. “What is going on here?” He questioned me, but Garrett answered.

“Oh ya know, found your recruit, found-Julian is it?” He turned to me, asking a question he didn’t expect an answer for. “Also found some plot against all of you by some blood mages. So the good news is that Keran himself isn’t possessed, the bad news is that half of your recruits could be possessed by demons.” He smiled, pleased with himself even though he had just delivered some very horrible news.

I moved to stand beside Cullen, shock written on both of our faces. “Possessed? Andraste guide me, this can’t be true.” He looked to me, asking without voicing it, if it was true.

“Oh don’t ask him. We saw him fighting some gang down by the docks. Took all of them out barehanded. It was like watching a grizzly bear rip into its meal. Julian wasn’t part of our investigation I’m afraid. He had grizzly bear things to do.” Garrett answered again. Despite his attempts to make me sound like some kind of weird hero, I still didn’t like him. My patience was running thin to be honest. I was getting tired of him speaking, or opening his mouth at all. 

Cullen blinked, staring at me with that same confusion. 

“I’ll explain later, Knight Captain.” I was finally given the chance to speak. “I believe more pressing matters need to be attended to right now.” I looked at Keran, and the others too. Possession among the Templar ranks. That was damning news.

“Right.” Cullen nodded. “I’m going to have to have all of the recruits tested. Maker, I can’t believe this. Leave it to mages to think of such a plan. What’s worse is that they actually halfway succeeded.” He rubbed his forehead in annoyance. 

“Well mages have been systematically abused for thousands of years by the Chantry and your Order, so it makes sense if you ask me.” Garrett’s annoying voice spoke through the dire situation. “You force people to be your prisoners, and they usually tend to try and escape.” 

Now that was something I could actually agree on with the idiot. 

“Mages are not people, Hawke. They aren’t like us. They are dangerous and they must be watched at all times. I’d rather have mages as prisoners than have one abomination go unnoticed and kill a whole city.” Cullen's views, as always, were not something I agreed with. I had to stop myself from making it obvious that his harsh words were grating to hear.

“Templars are also dangerous, and as was shown tonight, are also susceptible to possession.” Garrett countered. Causing Cullen to pause. 

My friend sighed. “I’m not here to debate what’s right or wrong. You did the Order a service tonight, and it will not go unnoticed. Here, take this as a reward of our thanks.” A small bag was handed over to Garrett. The dark haired man weighed it in his hand for a second before he pocketed it. 

“What is to become of Keran?” I questioned.

“We can’t possibly take him on any longer.” Cullen answered. 

“Messere please, I’m not possessed. I didn’t do anything that they asked. I need this or my sister can’t eat.” Keran gave his two cents, looking dumbfounded and lost.

“We conducted our own test on Keran. He’s fine.” Garrett smiled.

Cullen looked suspicious of that, as did I. “I hesitate to ask what test you conducted.” He shook his head, deciding not to I suppose. Probably for the best. “If after two years, Keran has not shown any signs of possession, he will be given full ranking in the Templar Order.” Cullen answered. 

A just solution I thought. Poor kid was desperate to help his sister. 

“Oh thank you Messere.” Keran clapped his hands together in a pleading fashion as he bowed to Cullen. 

“Well that’s it for us. I’ve seen enough of the Gallows to last me the rest of my life. And men in skirts too.” Garrett’s dumb smile was back on his face. I wanted to punch him, and that wasn’t a feeling I normally had about random people I had just met. 

“Yes, thank you again, Hawke.” Cullen dismissed the group and they all left without another glance backwards. 

Once Cullen finished dealing with Keran, he came back to me. “I think you have some explaining to do.” He spoke with comradery. A friendly smile on his face. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was actually feeling relieved, or if he was deeply concerned and trying to hide it. Perhaps both. 

“So do you.” I chuckled, clapping him on the back as I walked by. “Come on, drinks in your quarters and I’ll tell you all about my night, and you can tell me all about your day. Deal?”

Cullen chuckled and followed behind me. “Deal.”


End file.
